Page 36 of Spring Break with a Bass Player
Bridger hadn’t been lying when he told me I could have anything I wanted—and I wanted a lot.
Straddling him in the tub, I’d leaned into him as he kneaded my breasts and lapped his tongue against my nipples as I stroked him under the water. He’d come on a strangled cry before lifting us out of the tub and stalking into the shower, not caring that it took a minute for the temperature to be tolerable before dropping to his knees. Hooking my leg over his shoulder, he’d devoured me, and he wasn’t gentle.
He fucked me with his tongue and his fingers, my orgasm a violent wave of pleasure as I came, his tongue relentless until I’d all but collapsed against him.
It was the kind of life-altering orgasm many hope for but few ever experience. And when I thought the night couldn’t get any better, Bridger had moved me under the spray, his fingers massaging my scalp, my temples, my neck and making me moan for an entirely different reason. He washed my hair and body with so much care, I wanted to cry.
The bricks I’d built up around my heart were demolished with the care and consideration of one beautifully selfless man.
What if I screw this up?
What if he gets bored?
What if?—
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Bridger murmurs against the nape of my neck, his naked body wrapped around mine where we’d fallen asleep in my bed.
“You.”
“Uh-oh.” His words are teasing, and I can feel his lips curve up into a smile on my skin. “Let me give you another orgasm, really increase my odds of a positive review.”
I giggle, the sound so foreign to my own ears, his eyes full of amusement as I turn to face him. “In this relationship…”
“Relationship, huh? Man, I like hearing you say it.”
“In this relationship,” I repeat, eyeing him pointedly because I’d already acknowledged I’m his girlfriend in front of his parents. My heart beats faster as his smile grows. “I worry that, perhaps, I don’t know how to be as selfless—asopen—as I should be. That I don’t know how to be those things when you deserve that and so much more.”
“I knew I should have fed you before we fell asleep,” he muses, pushing my hair back from my face and tucking it behind my ear.
“I’m being serious.”
“I know and I appreciate that. It’s just frustrating that you don’t see how amazing you are.” I open my mouth to retort but close it when he narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to be sunshine and rainbows to be a good person, Saige.”
“That’s good because I’m neither of those things.”
“And I like that about you. You took your cousin and his daughter in when they needed a place to stay, and you work harder than anyone I know. You’ve shown me that you want to be in this with me even when you’re feeling prickly.”
“Prickly?”
“It’s my favorite,” he croons, pressing his lips to mine, making me sigh like I’m putty in his hands. “And I don’t care how long or often I need to tell you how crazy I am about you.”
“But—”
“Yours is exceptional.” He delivers that line with a firm squeeze of my ass and a self-satisfied grin.
“Be serious.” I laugh, letting him pull me flush against him, his cock hardening between us.
“I am.” Sighing, he adds, “I’ve had to work twice as hard for every smile, every laugh, hell, every look in my direction.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, Bridge. I’m exhaustedforyou. How could you want to keep doing that?”
“Because every look, smile, and laugh is like winning the lottery. Seeing you relax and enjoy yourself, having you trust me with your most vulnerable moments,”—he presses his mouth against mine in a hard kiss—“God, Saige, it doesn’t compare.”
“It feels impossible to see myself like you do.”
“It’s not just me,” he says softly. “So many people love you.”
“That’s different,” I reply, swallowing hard. “Wells and Haven are family and?—”
